Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Higher

The floundering fall of a sinking weight
       pits itself beneath the rubble.
It wafts
       slyly encompassing, until
       the vague memory of trust
       pixillates, forming a morphed perception.
I hastily pry my fingers free,
       as the darkness nips, but the pinching subsides.
They cast away
       in bitter embarrassment
       sweltering in the bottomless chasm.
But I look to You, and
       all shame is swept out of sight,
       all pain and brokenness is disbarred,
       all hesitation--obliviated.
You take it all
       and it's all I can do
       but to bow before You,
And love You with all my heart.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Upon Our Knees

The air cradles the translucent shadow
       as the surrounding, opaque night
       swallows, falling to the ruinous ground.
Timid, delicate fingers
       ripple, peeling open the gateway of the sky.
A dulcet voice
       whispers His sweet sorrows.
Overcast sweeps into the gaps
       darkness overflowing to the brim.
Guilt--the relentless venom
       we choke.
Through our chapped lips
       the strength to change murmurs in resounding echos
       reverberating until they reach the firmament.
We reconcile
       somewhere swiftly skimming the surface.
Until we fall upon our knees,
       and lift our eyes to Grace.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Sinking Softly

Take me to the frayed ends
       so I may skim my way
       through the imperfect ridges.
Smother my pride
       and push forth the radiating satisfaction
       from somewhere deep within.
Captivate me
       I give it all up
       to you, for you.
Carry me through the drifting days
       to the point of contentment
       overflow me with your joy.
Completely incapable
       of distinguishing the two
       I float about, half-asleep.
I cry out,
       half-awake.
I feel your presence 
       despite the lack of pressure
       upon my flesh.
Nothing was ever promised
       and all assumptions
       I shatter to pieces.
And yet, here I am
       thumb rubbing, number climbing
       awaiting nothing
              but something.